


Time Honored Traditions

by mhunter10



Series: Fratboy Mickey [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Awkwardness, Embarrassment, Family, Fun, Gen, Holidays, M/M, Making Up, Meet the Family, Misunderstandings, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Traditions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: With the fall semester coming to an end, Ian’s not sure how the holiday season will go





	1. Chapter 1

"You passed."

"I...I passed?" Ian peered at his best friend's laptop screen through his fingers. He’d been too afraid to look at his final grades after the last half of the semester had thoroughly been his worst in his college career. "I passed!" He whooped, standing with his fists in the air.

Abbie rolled her eyes and yanked him back down so people would stop staring. "I told you you would. Now you can stop being a pain in my ass."

"Never, Abs," Ian squeezed her, messing up her hair like a brother would. She slapped him off and went back to looking for bus tickets. "I can't believe it though. I thought for sure I'd have to repeat or grovel or..."

"Sleep with Daniels?" Abbie teased, giggling.

Ian made a disgusted face. "Ew! What? I can't believe that you would even suggest that I would have the audacity to sleep with a teacher...again." Ian could admit that he had made some mistakes in his past, and he was glad he could laugh about them now without feeling judged. Ian sighed, though.

"What's wrong?" Abbie gave him her full attention, noticing his face.

"Sometimes I feel like I...like I cheat the system or something. The school is basically obligated to hold my hand cause of my diagnosis."

Abbie shook her head and touched his hand. "Ian, no. We've been over this. You can't think like that, okay? Besides, the school does the bare minimum, every grade you get is because you're a hard worker and you're smart."

"And I have Mickey." Ian half-joked.

Abbie made a sceptical face. "If he's so smart, why hasn't he invited you home with him?"

"Has Cody invited you?" He deflected, knowing full well that would not work on her. She raised an eyebrow Mickey would be proud of.

Ian knew this was coming. He couldn’t help but get defensive, even though he had been wondering the same thing. Honestly, they'd hit a bit of a rough patch with Ian’s full-on episodic meltdown. After he'd recovered, he had so much catching up to do that they hadn't seen much of each other. And Mickey had been busy as well, seemingly throwing himself into his studies and his bros when Ian had made it pretty damn clear that there was nothing he could do to help. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mickey didn’t want to deal with him anymore.

"Fuck." He remembered the look on Mickey’s face of utter shock and pain at his outburst. It had freaked him out. Ian could tell because they weren’t quite the same after that. Sooner or later they were going to have to talk and he would need to apologize. "I messed things up, Abs."

She gave him a sympathetic look, putting her arm around him. "It wasn’t your fault."

Ian sighed. "I'm so sick of things not being my fault when they are. I'm bipolar, that doesn't excuse me."

They sat quietly for a moment as only two friends can when words just won't do any good.

Abbie's phone buzzed.

"Cody?" Ian guessed, beginning to gather his things. He knew what he had to do, as much as he wanted to sit around with the relief he wouldn't be put on academic probation.

Abbie nodded, reading the text. "He found his biological sister. She lives in D.C. He says she invited him to celebrate Christmas with her family..." she trailed off, putting her hand to her mouth.

"Wow, that's pretty neat. Good for him." Ian liked Cody a lot, not just as one of the house guys but also as Abbie's boyfriend. He was never shy about being adopted, and Ian even told him about being only half-related to his own siblings. He was really happy for him and really hoped he and Abbie stayed together, even if the fate of he and Mickey was up in the air.

"He wants me to go with him!" Abbie was grinning so wide, a frequent occurrence with her relationship going so well.

Ian knew she would want to call him, so he kissed her head and waved goodbye. He knew he would hear all the details later and that she understood his mission was to fix his own shit.

When he got to the house, most of the guys were already gone, a blessing he couldn’t have hoped for no matter how much he enjoyed their company. There were decorations up including a tree with far too many lights on it, and a menorah by the window with seven of the candles lit. He found Mickey in the den watching TV with Petey, Brent, and two of their new members, Sam and Ashad. Ian nodded to them, standing awkwardly in the doorway before Mickey noticed him. He looked surprised then excited then leery.

"Hey," Ian said, hoping he sounded the right amount of remorseful.

Mickey sat up a little and adjusted his backwards cap. "Hi."

"Ian! I missed you, man, you good?"

Petey. Good ol' Petey. For once Ian was glad for his interjection. Ian smiled a little and nodded, knowing Petey was actually concerned about him like the rest of the guys. No doubt Mickey had talked to them about everything, they were his boys after all, so it was nice to see no one hated him...yet.

"Better, dude. Thanks. What smells so good?"

"Stan's making lahtkes. It's a house tradition," Petey answers, perfectly fine doing all the talking for the moment.

"Sweet," Ian commented, eyeing the way Mickey kept his head down.

"Actually, they taste like hash browns."

Ian chuckled. Man, he loved Petey.

"Can we talk?" He finally ventured, hoping Mickey wouldn't refuse.

"Yeah...yeah, okay," Mickey nodded, getting up. "Ay, save me some, man," he added, before taking Ian by the hand and leading him upstairs.

Once the door to Mickey’s bedroom was closed, he dropped Ian’s hand and flopped down on the end of his bed, leaning back slightly with his legs spread. He looked so hot even though he was wearing lounge pants and a long sleeve shirt with the house letters. Ian could see his dick through the soft fabric and wondered if he had on any boxers. He also looked exhausted and a little sad, and it was most certainly Ian’s fault. He put his stuff down and sat on the edge of Mickey’s desk, noticing a suitcase in the corner that was half-packed. He bit his lip, unsure where to start first.

"So you're...doing better now?" Mickey asks, searching Ian’s face and eyes for answers.

"I am. In fact, I want to, uh...say that I'm--"

"Don't apologize, dude. It wasn’t--"

"Don't!" Ian doesn’t mean to raise his voice and he hates that Mickey has that mix of emotions on his face again. "Ever since I was diagnosed with this disorder, people always say nothing's my fault when I'm having a low or a high, and....I just...please, Mick. I'm sorry, okay? Because it is my fault we're like this now."

Mickey quirks an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Ian kind of shrugs, not really wanting to find the words to describe the strain and distance he's felt. And now that Mickey’s asking, maybe it hasn't been the same way on his end. Ian bites his lip, afraid and suddenly unsure of what he’s feeling. Maybe Mickey hasn't cared at all...but in a bad way.

Finally Mickey leans forward and catches Ian’s eyes. "Ian, c'mere." He pulls at his hand until he’s seated on his lap. It's a bit awkward with him being taller, but it's the closest they've been in a while and it feels good; things seem better this way. He rubs at Ian’s bruised knuckles from him punching a wall.

"It's a miracle I didn't break it. I keep getting lucky even when I feel like I got the short stick in my family," Ian says, intertwining their fingers.

"But you're, like, six feet tall, bro," Mickey deadpanned, waiting for Ian to laugh before joining him.

They kissed, gripping each other close and holding on wherever they could reach. They breathed each other in, quickly settling into each other again like they were always meant to be.

"Last time I had a high, I fucked up bad," Ian admitted when they broke apart. "Things were already shakey, but I made things worse. It was awful. I got scared to date...to be with anybody after that. Then..."

"Enter me," Mickey says, confidently, kissing Ian on the cheek.

Ian smiles. "Right. I thought I had messed this up like before. Messed us up. Mick, I wanted you with me the whole time after, but I didn't know if you wanted to stick around for all my shit."

Mickey shuts him up and calms him down with a simple peck to the lips. He holds his face in his hands. "Ian, you should know by now I don't want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. Shit or no shit. Okay?"

Ian nodded because he’s an idiot. Of course Mickey feels that way. "Can I get that in writing?" He teases to cover up his lapse in self esteem.

"You can get whatever you want. I've missed you, dude," Mickey puts his face in Ian’s neck, kissing and biting there to show how much. His hands grip his waist tighter.

"Petey said it first."

"Oh, yeah? Should I be worried?" Mickey bites Ian’s shoulder hard, still hiding his face in case the answer is bad.

"Nope." Ian shakes his head and pulls Mickey down on top of him, unable to stop grinning. He kisses him and this time they don't let up until they absolutely have to get their clothes off.

"Ever been to Connecticut?" Mickey asks the ceiling an hour later.

Ian lifts his head to rest his chin on Mickey’s stomach. He’s been tracing circles into his skin, wondering if it's possible to be this into someone. He hums, thinking for a second.

"It's a yes or no, man," Mickey snorts.

"No. Definitely no...wait...yeah, no."

Mickey laughs and it shakes his body and the bed and  _god_ Ian shouldn't be thinking about marriage laws.

"Well...it's usually just me and dad at Christmas, you know, but I thought...if you want to come."

Ian's brain is still half on the sex they just had, so it takes him entirely too long to realize what Mickey’s saying.

"To Connecticut?" He asks.

Mickey smiles wide and looks down at him. "To my childhood home to meet my dad, yeah."

Ian sits up, not bothering with the sheets covering him. "For real?"

"For real, for real, bruh. You in? We leave at the end of the week."

"You already got the train tickets? What if I said no, what if we..." Ian trails off, not wanting to even say it.

Mickey shrugged. "Petey."

And as if he heard his name, there was a definite knock on the door.

"Make-up sex lahtke delivery!"

Ian feels the luckiest to be surrounded by people who care about him.


	2. Chapter 2

Ian made his way back to their seats, only bouncing off one wall as the train rocked around a turn. It felt good to stretch his legs after the three hour ride, but he wanted to get back to Mickey. They had taken turns sleeping with their heads in each other's laps, and he'd felt bad for having to go to the bathroom. Now Mickey was awake, looking out the window at the passing scenery. It was snowing.

"Are we there yet?" Ian asked, sliding back into his seat next to him.

Mickey grinned. "Yeah, actually. Dad's already waiting at the station."

Ian had been joking but now his mind was racing again, the reality that they weren't just taking a vacation for their health. He was about to meet a member of Mickey’s family. He was going to meet his boyfriend’s father, for fuck's sake. He sat back and stared nervously at his knees until he felt the train beginning to slow down another half hour later. When it finally stopped, they grabbed their bags and made their way off the train and to the exits leading to the pickup area. Ian followed behind Mickey, trying to breathe properly and get his shit together before he was going to make his first impression.

"There he is," Mickey pointed out, heading quicker down a line of cars all waiting for their loved ones or whoever.

Ian looked up and saw a man in a long coat with a hat on. Only distinguishing factor he could see was blue eyes like Mickey’s. He wasn’t smiling. Ian took one last breath and let it out into the cold air.

When they walked up, the man nodded at Mickey and glanced in Ian’s direction before grabbing their bags and putting them in the trunk. He then moved back to the driver's side and got in. Mickey opened the door for the back seat, indicating Ian should get in, then he closed it behind him and got in the front next to his dad.

Ian still hadn’t spoken by the time they started driving. In fact, no one had. He cleared his throat to work up the nerve.

"Thanks for..picking us up, Mr. Milkovich."

It was a long moment before he heard a distinct hum from the front seat. Mickey looked back at him and smiled slightly, keeping Ian from just opening the car door and rolling out to his death rather than stay another moment.

Eventually they began to pull onto suburban streets until they stopped outside a large house with a circular driveway. They all got out, still not talking, and headed inside where at least it was warm. Once all their coats were in the closet, suddenly Mickey was pulled into a hug. It was the closest he'd seen them act like father and son since they arrived. It was like a switch was flipped when the man smiled genuinely.

"Tell me good things, Mickey," he said, shaking his shoulders.

"Dean's list. On track to graduate. Looking good for me to follow Tommy," Mickey rattled off the highlights of his accomplishments for the semester with a proud grin that got even bigger when he turned to Ian. "Met this guy."

Once again the man turned to acknowledge Ian with his eyes. He nodded, smile going reserved again when not on his son. He held out his hand. "Ian."

Ian stumbled in his haste to clasp his hand. "Uh, yes, sir...Mr. Milkovich."

Another nod and he turned back to his son. "I think drinks are in order, huh?"

Mickey smiled, eyes flicking to Ian and back. "Of course, dad. Think we want to settle in first."

"Right. Well...yes." He looked between the two of them and scratched at the back of his neck. "I'll start dinner then."

Ian sat on Mickey’s bed, watching him put his things away. He fiddled with a loose thread. "Is he always like that?"

Mickey looks at him. "Yeah," he came over and sat beside him, taking his hand. "After mom died it's like..."

Ian squeezed Mickey’s hand. "I get it."

"Could be worse, I guess. He’d never been really touchy feely, you know? He tries, though. I put him through hell the first few years, especially when I came out. He didn’t understand. Didn't get it. I was so scared of him because he'd changed so much without her, but he just...kept loving me." Mickey sniffled a little, blinking tears away. He chuckled, thumbing at his nose and fixing his hat.

Ian pulled him in by his neck, attaching their lips together. They kissed long and slow, letting their emotions take over. Ian couldn’t imagine what Mickey had gone through, but he was happy that Mickey was happy. And he hoped he made him happy too. They broke apart and smiled at each other just in time to hear a knock at the door.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Um, soup's on." The man said, eyes falling on their interlocked hands and closeness on the bed.

Ian wanted to move away for his sake, but Mickey held tighter. Pride swelled in his chest at Mickey’s boldness.

Dinner was soup and bread. There was beer like promised, but it was quiet and quaint. The rest of the week went by like that, small talk and dancing around each other when they weren’t staring at tv. Ian had felt too weird doing much more than kissing, but he couldn't take it anymore. He needed Mickey.

It was Christmas eve in the middle of the day when Ian found Mickey in the laundry room unloading the washing machine. He came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his body close.

Mickey laughed a little, standing up straight and touching Ian’s hand on his stomach. "Hey, you. Sup?"

Ian hugged him tighter, sniffing at Mickey’s neck. He moaned, feeling Mickey relax against him. He couldn’t resist moving his hands all over Mickey’s body and letting him feel how hard he was already. "Want you," he whispered close to his ear, even though they both knew Mr. Milkovich was out of the house.

Mickey’s breath hitched and he sighed when Ian pushed him against the washer. "Fuck, Ian..."

Ian kissed all across Mickey’s neck and exposed shoulders, sliding his hands underneath his tank to feel his flushed skin. "Please? Please, Mick."

Mickey turned to face him, grinning and putting his arms around his neck. "Is Ian Gallagher begging?"

Ian chuckled breathily then lunged forward to kiss him. They clutched at each other fast and hard, rutting against each other until they pulled away. "You know you want it," Ian said, his voice deep and lust filled.

For a moment, Ian got scared Mickey would push him away after all the times he had denied him since they got there. Mickey looked away like he expected something to interfere, but then he looked back at Ian and bit his lip.

"You sure?" He asked.

Ian nodded quickly, rubbing against Mickey and kissing him. "Hell yeah."

The next thing, Mickey took them through the door leading to the garage. He cleared a few tools from his dad's workbench and Ian lifted him onto it, standing between his spread legs. They kissed and kissed, letting their instincts and desire take over after being suppressed. They were quick about their clothes; Mickey undoing Ian’s jeans and Ian pulling down Mickey’s sweats. They both reached for the other after licking their hands, gripping and beginning to stroke feverishly.

"Mmh, oh yeah," Ian panted, continuing to kiss Mickey while they jerked each other off.

Mickey felt Ian’s other hand cup his balls then go lower, his fingers teasing at his hole. "Ohh shit, fuck, dude."

With the lube Ian pulled from his pocket, things escalated quickly but they still took their time. Ian fingered Mickey open while licking and sucking at his chest and nipples. He loved marking his man and he didn’t care who saw. The guys could tease all they wanted but it wouldn't stop him from making Mickey squirm and groan his name. Mickey ran his hands through Ian’s hair, dipping his head back to give him more room. He loved the attention just as much as his spot being massaged by two of Ian’s strong, long fingers.

"Now, c'mon, man." Mickey begged this time, just as eager.

Ian didn’t hesitate. He shoved Mickey’s thighs up and out, lining up and pressing forward until they were as close together as possible. Even though it was cold in the garage, they were both hot and sweating before long.

"Oh my God, yess. Been wanting to do this all week!" Ian nearly shouted with pleasure. He pumped his boyfriend with long and rough thrusts.

Mickey’s laugh turned into a loud yelp of ecstasy when Ian changed the angle and hit his prostate. "Been fucking waiting, bro. Uhh!"

They were both getting closer and closer. Ian let Mickey down, turning him around so he was bent over the workbench on his elbows. He slammed into him, making the structure hit the thin wall and jostle the tools and papers pushed aside earlier. Ian pushed Mickey’s back down making it arch when Mickey fucked back onto him. He smoothed his hand down the heated skin and squeezed Mickey’s ass, as he thrust a few more times. Mickey made a guttural noise, trembling as he began to come. Ian’s climax was fast approaching, he could feel it in his toes. His legs were beginning to give out, feeling Mickey’shole clench around him.

"Oh, ohh, mmh fuuu--"

Just as Ian began to shoot inside Mickey, the door to the laundry room swung open to reveal a confused then very shocked Mr. Milkovich standing there.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi....
> 
> Fun fact: had a mental breakdown, cried in front of 40+ students while giving a speech, forgot to take 1 final and mixed up the day for another all in one semester. Happy holidays! :D


End file.
